


Cutting It Off

by CharlieIsMyName



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, False Memories, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Haircuts, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Psychological Trauma, Sad with a Happy Ending, Short, Short & Sweet, Spoilers, Stream of Consciousness, Stress Relief, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27519679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieIsMyName/pseuds/CharlieIsMyName
Summary: Maki cuts her hair. Shuichi cuts ties. Himiko cuts her knee.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki & Saihara Shuichi & Yumeno Himiko, Harukawa Maki & Yumeno Himiko, Saihara Shuichi & Yumeno Himiko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Maki Cuts Her Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat a vent fic? But like happy vent? Feedback would be heavily appreciated! Comments would be great!

Maki had been staring at the knife for a while. I was a plain, nearly unused kitchen knife. Nothing special about it. She remembers the times she had used kitchen knives. She'd rather forget. Her memories of that were something that were taken from her. They weren't even here in the first place. She didn't wanna think about it. The handle of the knife had three indents, perfect to grip. She felt her hands instinctively reaching out and gripping it. She held it tight, tighter than maybe she should of. Tight enough to make her knuckles turn white and her fingertips to go red. She pulled it out of the holder, revealing the blade, sharp and nearly entirely unused. It could cut through a lot of things very easily. She lifted the knife, hand trembling and unfocused. Unlike how she had been in so many of her memories. And with little hesitation-

CHOP

Her brown hair fell to the ground, heavy enough to cause a dull thud against the wood floor. It pooled around her feet, spreading as the weight of gravity pulled it closer to the ground. She shuffled her feet slightly, and the feeling of the hair made it feel like spiders were crawling up her ankles. She glanced down, seeing the mess she had created. But she didn't care enough to have the foresight of how much time it would take to clean up. She was in the present. She wasn't in the past or the future. She was here, and she was being impulsive. Her hair hung limply around her face, tickling her cheeks and teasing her nose. It made her feel warm. It made her feel lighter. It made her feel new. She put the knife back down, it falling against the table with a slight clatter. She blinked. Her cut off hair was sticking to her clothes and surrounding the floor around her. Her hair was gone. It was different. She was different.


	2. Shuichi Cuts His Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi Cuts His Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so sure about this one, but it was fun to write! Himiko part will be coming very soon!

Shuichi held the papers lightly, delicately, as if they would shatter if he squeezed too hard. He supposed that might be true… paper would crinkle and tear with the absolute slightest of touch. But despite that, he couldn't let go. He felt like if he let go of the paper he would be letting go of everything. His grip tightened. Creases formed where his fingers met the paper. He felt a strange feeling erupt from his chest. Sickly and thick and painful. He let out a shaky breath, reminding himself. Reminding himself he was real. Air tasted foreign when he was like this. He didn't know what it was supposed to taste like at this point. Was air supposed to have a taste? If not then why was he tasting something? Is it? Is that what it was supposed to taste like? His grip on the paper tightened. It bunched and crinkled under his knuckles. It crackled and it tore. He reached forward with his other hand, gripping the opposite side of the paper, tight. 

RIP

He tugged and he pulled and it tore. It tore and it fell in pieces to the floor. He let go. He let it fall. He breathed out. He breathed in. He was real. He stared down at the paper, the blank faces of his classmates staring back. He stared at the memory for what felt like forever. He stared and he stared and he stared until his eyes felt dry. He shook the small shreds of paper clinging to his clothes off and stepped away.


End file.
